Unlikely Blossom
by DarkMistFalls
Summary: Ganondorf finds himself unexpectedly falling in love - and with the most unexpected person, too. How will the other Brawlers react? I'll continue it if the response is positive. My first, so be gentle. Rated T for mild sensuality. Ganondorf x Wario.


**Unlikely Blossom**

**by DarkMistFalls**

Ganondorf leaned against the doorframe and watched the squat, bulky figure as it strode off into the distance and vanished amid the falling snow. The Gerudo were a desert people, unused to the cold of winter, but despite the temperature Ganondorf's dark skin was slicked by a layer of sweat – a souvenir from their encounter. He ran a hand through his tangled mane of fire-red hair, then replaced his headdress.

Breathing deeply – it was amazing how the man's scent still lingered, a heady aroma of motorcycle grease and garlic – Ganondorf closed and latched the door, and prayed to the Three Goddesses that none of the other Brawlers had seen his lover depart. Tired though he was of these midnight trysts, tired though he was of keeping his passions a secret, he wasn't sure how he'd be able to deal with their inevitable questions.

_How?_ they'd ask, casting unbelieving glances at one another.

_Why him?_ they'd demand, giggling behind their hands.

And, of course, Ganondorf would have no satisfactory explanation, because he couldn't understand it himself.

With all his sorcerous powers, could he ever have predicted that he'd fall madly in love with Wario?

* * *

At breakfast the following morning, Ganondorf sat alone in a corner of the Smash Mansion's dining room, staring through the elegant picture window out onto the snow-encrusted gardens beyond. He could faintly hear the other Brawlers chatting and laughing while they ate behind him, but he was all but oblivious to their conversations, caught up as he was in a private reverie all his own.

"So," said a voice behind him. "Is this seat taken?"

Ganondorf started, then turned in his chair and looked up into a pair of crystal-blue eyes framed by a shock of azure hair. He relaxed immediately.

"Ah, Marth," he said. "Be my guest, please." He motioned toward the chair beside him.

Marth set a plate laden with ham and toast beside him and took the offered seat. "What's on your mind, Ganondorf?" he asked, genuine concern in his voice. "You've hardly touched your food."

Ganondorf glanced down at his own plate, where his eggs were quickly going cold. "I'm just not hungry," he said.

Marth leaned in conspiratorially. "I think I understand," he said in a hushed tone. "I saw him leave last night."

Suddenly a yawning pit opened in Ganondorf's stomach. He felt the blood rush to his face, and, although he did his best to retain his stoic countenance, he was all too aware that his embarrassment would be visible to anyone who happened to glance in his direction. _No! I took so many precautions!_

"Who... else knows?" Ganondorf said, his voice barely cracking.

Marth smiled enigmatically. "Only a few of us," he whispered. "Zelda, Peach, and I are quite familiar with the concept of royal indiscretion, and we're not about to judge. Perhaps you remember a few years back, when Zelda caught me and Fox..."

"Ha! Yes," said Ganondorf, relief enveloping him like a warm bath. "And she used Farore's Wind to disappear with your clothes. We all had a good laugh about that."

Now it was Marth's turn to blush. "Nevertheless," he said, "you may want to be more careful in future." He speared a bit of ham with his fork and delicately nibbled at it. "Not all of us are as sympathetic to dalliances with the lower classes."

Ganondorf sighed deeply. "It's not a 'dalliance.' It's love," he said, turning his gaze back out the window toward the endless fields of white.

Marth's jaw dropped open. The fork slipped from his hands and clattered to the floor, drawing the curiosity of some of the Brawlers behind him. He quickly composed himself.

"Then you're really in trouble," he said gravely.

* * *

Ganondorf meandered through the frozen garden, the fading sunlight glinting off the snowdrifts and causing the icicles to sparkle mysteriously. He often enjoyed a walk in the garden to clear his head, but at the present his thoughts were occupied by a diminutive, heavyset man, a man whose beady eyes pierced his very soul, whose hairy torso pressed against his, whose mouth...

The Gerudo king shuddered and adjusted his cloak against the wind. He walked on, the snow crunching underfoot.

Marth was right. This _was_ trouble. A king falling for a commoner? And not just a commoner, but one largely perceived as crass and disgusting? By all rights, Ganondorf and Wario's love should have been as impossible as it was incomprehensible. But the other Brawlers were unfamiliar with the Wario Ganondorf knew – the tender Wario, the attentive and generous lover. How could it be wrong when it felt so right?

Ganondorf paused. He looked at his feet, where a violet was poking its head through the snow, a splash of vibrant color in an otherwise featureless expanse of unbroken white. He knelt down, heedless of the cold that immediately began to soak through the knees of his breeches, and plucked the flower. So unlikely to find a violet blooming in the dead of winter! Ganondorf sniffed the blossom, its sweet fragrance contrasting sharply with the frigid air, its radiant hue so distinct from the frosty landscape that surrounded it. Unlikely, but not impossible, to find such an unexpected source of beauty in such an inhospitable environment.

Tonight, he would see Wario again. And he would give him the violet, as a symbol of their forbidden love. And then Wario would take Ganondorf by the hand, and smile broadly, and he would lead him to the bedroom...

Ganondorf clasped the flower to his chest. He could hardly wait.


End file.
